She couldn’t think where else to go but back to the apartment. She had no money left, so a café was out, and she knew nobody in Manchester apart from Lewis and Martin and somehow she had to get home safely without alerting either of them to the fact that she was there.
As she approached the main entrance, she looked warily through the arch. Her heart was pounding at the thought of seeing Lewis, who was bound to have spotted her with Kelsey earlier.
She crept up the metal staircase, afraid that if she trod heavily Martin would hear her and come out from his office. She could outrun him, but he would tell Lewis she was home. And Martin had a key to their apartment.
As she reached the top of the stairs, she felt a little more secure. She didn’t think anyone had seen her, so maybe she would be okay now.
She climbed the internal staircase to the second floor, her breathing shallow. The back of her neck felt damp, whether from her still-wet hair or because of her fear, she didn’t know, but she glanced over her shoulder every two or three steps to make sure nobody was behind her.
The corridor was flooded with light from the windows to the courtyard, and as she reached the corner to the corridor that led to their apartment she felt a surge of relief. Nearly home now.
She turned into the dark hall, with only a trace of residual light from the area she had just left casting her shadow onto the concrete floor. She took a step forward, waiting for the lights to come on.
Nothing happened.
Ahead of her were the blank doors of the other apartments, but she could barely see them. At the far end, the area by their front door was in total darkness. She didn’t have a phone to light her way either.
Scarlett stopped dead. Should she go back and find someone to go with her to the door? But who could she ask?
She took one more step forward, cautiously, hoping the lights would suddenly blind her with their white glare. They didn’t.
By Scarlett’s reckoning, it was about forty metres to their front door. She knew her eyes would soon become accustomed to the gloom, and once she was inside – home, as much as it could be called that – she could lock herself in the bedroom and she would be safe until her mum came back from work.
Holding her hands out to her sides as if negotiating a tightrope, she crept forward, carefully putting one foot in front of the other. Still no lights came on. She took a deep breath. It caught in her throat, tight with fear.
She was past the entrance to the fire escape, the same stairs she had raced down a couple of hours before. If she could put back the clock, would she still run after the girl? It was too late to think like that now.
The first apartment door was coming up on the right, and once she was past it there would be only one more door before theirs.
She heard something. A soft click. Scarlett froze and listened. Nothing – no other sound. Then she heard the creak of rarely used hinges. A door was opening, and it was behind her.
She spun round, knowing that her worst fears had been realised. Silhouetted against the faint light from the distant courtyard windows was the outline of a man, legs apart, hands held slightly away from his sides.
Scarlett turned back and started to run. She wanted to scream, but she needed all her energy.
It took him no more than three long strides to catch her. With one arm he clasped her slight body to his, and the other circled her head, a hand clamping over her mouth.
‘Don’t fight me, Scarlett. It will be worse for you if you do.’
He dragged her back towards the emergency exit, away from safety.
68
As Bruce droned on about the publicity that needed to be drummed up for one of their clients – a man who in Natalie’s view had not one interesting thing to say in the interviews they were trying to line up for him – her mind kept wandering to Scarlett. She had looked bereft; there was no other word for it. Granted the wet hair and clothes must have been making her thoroughly fed up, but there was something else going on.
It had been such a difficult few days for Scarlett. The abrupt departure from Ed’s had been bad enough, but she had been devastated by the news that the police had questioned Alison about an affair with Bernie. She had also said something to Megan when they were in the bedroom that seemed to upset them both, but neither of them would tell Natalie what.
Megan’s criticism of Natalie had been bang on the money. She had always lived in cloud cuckoo land, as her mother used to say. She invariably thought the best of people and tried to ignore anything that didn’t fit perfectly into her lovely little world. The only exception to that had been the way she had run from Ed. But that was instinctive. She might be able to hide from reality in her own life, but nobody – absolutely nobody – was going to harm Scarlett. And yet in spite of that, her daughter was hurting, and Natalie suspected she was shielding her own mother from something.
‘Natalie, are you listening?’ Bruce asked, his voice petulant. That was the trouble, really: her boss liked the sound of his own voice a bit too much, and Natalie had always given in to him.
‘No, I’m not listening,’ she said, standing up. ‘I’m worried about my daughter. She needs me, so I’m sorry – I know it’s not ideal – but I’m going home.’
She knew that Bruce was tempted to shout at her to sit down and do her job, but even he knew that wasn’t professional. His glare, however, said it all. If she lost her job it was hard luck; they would manage somehow.
Natalie hurried back to her desk and grabbed her bag. As she waited for the lift she tried Scarlett’s mobile but got no answer. She should have been home by now, but perhaps she was having a shower after the soaking she got earlier.
The lift doors opened, and Natalie looked up from her phone.
‘Ed? What the hell are you doing here?’ she asked, once again not quite able to conquer the yearning for the security this man had always seemed to offer.
‘I need to talk to you, and it won’t wait till Friday. I’ve swapped shifts. Can we talk? Please, Natalie, it’s really important.’
Natalie pushed past him and into the lift.
‘I need to get back to Scarlett. I’m sorry, Ed. There’s something wrong with her, and I don’t know what it is.’
‘Can I come with you?’
‘No! Of course not. Nothing has changed.’
Ed ignored her and stepped into the lift, pressing the button for the ground floor.
‘But everything has changed. I’ve been trying to protect you, but I can’t do it any more. By shielding you, I’m effectively putting an end to us – to everything we could have together. You have to listen to me.’
‘What – more lies? More avoiding the truth?’
‘No, the truth. And with evidence.’
The lift had arrived at the ground floor and the doors were opening.
‘Look, Nat, I need five minutes. That’s all it will take, I promise. There’s a coffee shop next door. Can you just sit down and listen, then you can decide what to do?’
Natalie stopped in the foyer of the office block, not looking at Ed. She had known this man for all of her adult life and he had never once been anything other than a good friend, even before he was her lover. Was she being fair?
She raised her head and looked at him, the frown lines between his heavy brows seeming deeper than they had only ten days previously.
‘Okay. Five minutes.’
Ed’s whole body seemed to sag, as if every muscle had been tensed.
They went outside into what had now become a sunny day and into the coffee shop next door.
‘What can I get you?’ Ed asked.
‘It’s not a date, Ed. A glass of tap water will be fine.’
A smiling young waitress came to the table and took their order – coffee for Ed because he said he couldn’t just ask for two glasses of tap water, and a bottle of mineral water for Natalie.
As soon as the girl was gone, Ed started. ‘Before we get to the big stuff, let’s get the trivia out of the w
ay. The camera.’
He pulled two sheets of paper from a small briefcase he was carrying and passed them across the table. Natalie could see that the top one was covered with small images which looked like Ed’s back garden.
‘Ed, I’m not stupid. You could have taken these yesterday having deleted anything you didn’t want me to see.’
‘Of course I could. So look at the second sheet.’
It was a receipt for a camera, bought two days before she left him. Natalie didn’t understand what this meant.
‘I bought the camera, Nat, because I’d suggested a holiday – you, me and Scarlett. I know you like to keep photographs, and I had nothing but my phone. It was supposed to be a surprise. I tried out a few shots in the garden when you were out.’
Natalie didn’t know what to say. It felt like one more thing to throw into the bucket of confusion.
‘Next. I did something that’s going to make you angry. After you left I was putting away the washing. Scarlett had been swimming and her costume was in the basket. I don’t know if she told you, but I took it to your apartment. Megan gave me the address, and I thought Scarlett might need it if she had nothing to do. I knew you wouldn’t come back to collect it. I also knew you’d be furious, so I waited outside hoping to see you leave the apartment before I went in.’
Natalie looked at him, horrified that he had been so devious and puzzled by the fact that Scarlett hadn’t told her.
‘I deserve that look. I wanted Scarlett to know that I care about her. I saw you leave, then I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing or not, so I spent most of the day trailing aimlessly around Manchester, trying to decide what to do. In the end, I delivered the parcel. I didn’t see Scarlett, but I know I should have told you. I was upset and confused, but it was the wrong thing to do.’
Natalie took a gulp of her water. She wanted to shout at Ed, but he was talking as if he was giving evidence in court. Clipped speech, precise and unemotional.
Ed didn’t wait for her to comment. ‘Finally, the important bit,’ he said. ‘I understand why you asked Alison to come and take the boxes. I do, really. But I was looking through them for a reason. You and I both know that Bernie used to scribble things down, and when I was helping you shift the boxes from your house in the first place, one of his notebooks fell out. It didn’t have much in it – at least, not much more than a few ideas for Christmas presents for you – but there was something else.’
He looked at Natalie, and she could see how difficult he was finding this.
‘Go on, Ed. Whatever it is, just tell me.’
‘What I found was the reason I was looking in the boxes – to see if there was anything else that would help me make sense of it.’ He put his hand in the briefcase and pulled out another sheet of paper. ‘This is a copy of one of the pages from the notebook. Do you recognise this writing?’
‘Of course I do. It’s Bernie’s.’
Natalie looked at the page, blank except for three lines:
http://3Yx7934j0che2254.onion
BigOwl1942
T******m
She looked up at Ed. ‘What does it mean? It looks like a web address but ends in dot onion. I’ve never seen that before.’
‘It’s a website on the dark web. The next line is the login, and the line after a hint for the password.’
The waitress delivered the coffee and water. ‘Anything else I can help you with?’ she asked with another beaming smile.
‘No, thanks,’ Ed said, never taking his eyes off Natalie.
‘What is it? What sort of website is it?’
She knew the answer before he spoke.
‘It’s the website you found on my computer – the one with the photographs of the kids. I checked it out when I found Bernie’s notebook.’
Natalie felt her throat close up. She thought she might be sick and hastily grabbed the glass of water, spilling a little as she raised it in shaking hands.
‘The password at the bottom took a bit of working out, but I got there in the end.’
Replacing the glass gently on the table, Natalie said, ‘It’s a pity you didn’t ask me. Bernie’s party trick – saying the alphabet backwards. It’s Tsrqponm.’
Ed nodded but didn’t say anything.
She lifted her eyes to his. ‘Why did he have a note of this website? Was it something to do with his work?’
‘That’s what I’ve been trying to find out without making too many waves. But I don’t think so. This particular site was set up a couple of months after Bernie went back into uniform. He’d left Operation Sphere so there’s no way he’d have had to know about it for the task force. I’ve checked if there were any investigations locally that I might not have been aware of, but there’s nothing.’
Natalie still stared at him. She had left Ed because of this, and because it made her doubt his feelings towards Scarlett. And now she didn’t know what to think.
For a moment she considered telling him about the receipt she had found with the apartment address on it. But he hadn’t finished.
‘There’s something else. The login didn’t only give me access as a user so I could look at the photos. It was an admin login. You know what that means, don’t you?’
Natalie did know, but she still wanted Ed to spell it out to her. He leaned across the table and held her hand, his thumb stroking her skin.
‘I’m sorry, love, but it means he was able to control the site, post the images and take money from the sick bastards who subscribed.’
69
‘If you scream, little girl, I’ll throw you down the stairs,’ Lewis said as he dragged Scarlett through the door to the emergency exit. ‘Now, are you going to do this the easy way or the hard way?’
Scarlett looked down the flight of concrete steps then back at Lewis’s face, his eyes black and his mouth a thin, hard line. Her mouth was covered, so she gave a sharp nod of her head, hoping he would interpret it correctly. She had to do what he told her. She had no doubt that he would carry out his threat.
He slowly released his grip on her mouth, and she raised a hand to rub away the feel of his skin on hers. He shifted the arm that was circling her chest holding her captive against him, and grasped her upper arm, dragging her up the staircase. She stumbled as she tried to keep up with his long strides, but he didn’t let her fall. He yanked her upright and carried on walking.
‘Where are you taking me?’ Scarlett asked, a combination of tears and fear choking her. ‘Please don’t hurt me, Lewis. Please. I won’t tell anyone anything, I promise.’
Lewis stopped and spun round. Scarlett’s foot slipped off the step, her ankle crashing against the edge as it did. She tried to stifle a squeal of pain.
‘Shut your mouth. Not a word until I tell you. And keep your eyes on your feet if you don’t want to hurt yourself again.’
He shook her roughly by the arm and turned to begin climbing again, Scarlett limping and gasping each time her bad ankle had to take her weight. They passed the door to the top floor but carried on up. Where was he taking her?
As they rounded the final bend in the stairs, Scarlett risked a glance up and saw a door – another emergency exit. And there was only one place that could lead to. The roof.
She pulled back against Lewis’s hand. If she could just break free she could run down the stairs and back into the corridor of the top floor, screaming as she went. Someone would hear her, she was sure. But as she shifted her weight to her other leg, the ankle gave way beneath her. She wasn’t able to run anywhere, and anyway Lewis would be after her with the speed of a panther, snarling with anger and ready to fling her down the unyielding stairway. But if he got her to the roof, it could be so much worse.
As if sensing Scarlett’s impulse, Lewis tightened his grip on her and dragged her up the remaining steps. At the top he punched a code into the keypad, and the door clicked. He kicked it open with his right foot and hauled her out onto the flat roof, pushing her away from the door.
T
here was nowhere for Scarlett to run. She twisted her head from side to side, but the only break in the roof’s featureless surface was the door through which they had come, built into a small concrete stairhead to allow access, and a similar construction on the roof of the south wing. A low brick parapet ran around the edge of the roof. The buildings on either side were close, but slightly lower, so nobody would be able to see her from an office window. The only way out was back through the door. And Lewis was standing right in front of it.
He took two steps towards her, and she backed away, limping, never taking her eyes from him.
‘I wouldn’t step any further back, if I were you, little girl.’
Scarlett glanced behind. She was no more than a metre from the parapet, and if she backed into that she would fall straight over the edge, crashing onto the street below.
‘What do you want? I’ve said I won’t tell, and I won’t. I promise. Please, Lewis. Just let me go home.’
‘Shut up and listen. Don’t move. I need to tell you something – something I shouldn’t be telling anyone, let alone you. But I think it’s the only way, given what that stupid girl Kelsey has probably said.’
Scarlett watched his eyes, which were narrowed as if he were trying to decide what to say to her.
‘What I need to tell you, Scarlett, is hugely confidential. The truth is, I’m a policeman and I’m working undercover. Deep undercover. We’re setting up a trap that’s taken three years to organise. I’m sorry I threatened you with those photos, but I had to find a way of keeping you quiet.’
‘If you’re a policeman, why would you treat Kelsey so badly? Surely the police don’t allow that?’
‘I have to behave as badly as the real villains do, or nobody will believe me. You must have seen films with undercover cops taking part in armed robberies or selling drugs to kids? We do what we have to, because we need to rid the world of the scum who take advantage of girls like Kelsey.’
Scarlett looked at him, unsure whether to believe him or not. If she said she did, though, he might let her go.
The Sixth Window Page 27
